Black Ink
by Kingdomonkey
Summary: Swiftly he rose from the torn ground, eyes almost cat-like, deep, silently moving over the rocks, careful not to crunch the roots clawing from the earth. Wouldn't want to startle them.    Someone had finally come to play.
1. Chapter 1

((((I just felt like writing. And I decided to motivate me and maybe get some feedback I am going to start trying to download most of what I write regardless of the sense or grammer or whatever. XD Just wanna get out of this funk and thanks to inspiration led by many of Freakyanimegal's stories as well as a few others I am slowly starting. Now to get through the wanting to write but not making sense as I write XD This is probably set after the game but eh. Things can jump too. I'm just writing whatever pops into my head. Now lets all pray it makes sense XD Enjoy peeps

I disclaim all but my writing.))))

"_I'm not getting __**rid**__ of them!" Lloyd's voice had a hard tone to it. Raine Sage let out an audible sigh, fixating her cool blue gaze on her student. The atmosphere around the fire was tired and collective eyes moved from the taller silver haired healer and back to the red clad boy. Nether were backing down. Genis Sage knew it was time to roll out his mat._

"_Lloyd, you can't expect me to believe that was a one time occurrence! Next time they could snag or be tugged on and we might not be there to back you up!" Her voice was just as level, daring him to respond. Lloyd's chocolate eyes gleamed and a smirk reached the edge of his cheekbones. Oh, he dared._

"_I'm not getting rid of them. I'm never getting rid of them." His eyes solely remained on her, one of the few times Lloyd was certain of his success. He turned to fully face his teacher on the other side of the fire, arms crossed over his chest, leaning on one foot smugly. "But, I guess if you feel so strongly about it. We could make a deal."_

_Raine Sage had never been so uncertain of her student until that moment. Her body language showed tension, and her eyes, hesitation. Nobody moved. Eyes locked onto Lloyd. Even the older swordsman, who had been faced away focusing himself with something in his hand, turned slightly to catch the stance of his apprentice from under his auburn bangs._

"…_Deal?" That sentence nearly killed her. She swallowed, eyes narrowing in annoyance, and lips creating a small thin line on her pale face. She knew that now that Lloyd's mind was sure of what he wanted, there was little to nothing that she was going to be able to do now. She slowly took a breath and closed her eyes ", Elaborate?" Lloyd stared blankly. He had been caught off guard if his mood hadn't changed back into the determined, unmovable, look it held in seconds flat, Genis would have pissed himself laughing._

"_Uh, well, the deal is that in return for allowing you to make me give them up, you have to never make me eat tomatoes, and go for a swim with all of us." The eyes around him became blank._

_It angered Raine greatly when even the lone Mercenary, Kratos, chuckled at the boy's lack of skills to negotiate._

He missed a time where nothing mattered but helping Colette, Training and fighting his father, saving Presea, and learning and loving the friends he had finally gathered for himself. It had always felt like it would last forever, many days of basking in the dull but soothing Sylveranti sun. Thousands of miles walked among friends who were on their ways to making a difference in the world. The laughing and joy may not have always been there but when it had been he could honestly say there wasn't another time in his life where he was happier.

Crimson eyes dulled and the figure hunches against the stone-made wall. Hands clench grasping dirt in its hold and broad shoulders cracking back into place. The figures mouth twists into one of a scowl and soon sets to cracking his knuckles slowly before popping limbs back into place with an audible 'click'. Slowly he turns his head, gazing numbly, taking the sights in. The area seemed haunted at night, covered in shadows reaching from the trees for him; their greedy little fingers wanting to consume him, bring him to their trap. He chuckles darkly, his voice frail and unused but oddly icy.

His eyes move to the dead grass plaguing the area around him and the fallen tower carcass. Slowly he stopped on a golden ivy arch way standing ten feet before him in all it's glory remaining hung over the beginning of the path onward. Rubble seemed to be littered everywhere obstructing the pathway terribly.

…

He could follow the path, find the small sapling and it's blue haired guardian, but he chooses not to, allowing the older halfling to enjoy his time. He'd better have. It wasn't everyday the figure didn't follow up on the pulsating thoughts that clouded his already fogged mind. It would be to easy taking him down, squeezing the strength out of his pale elven form. The feeling of his futile struggling, gurgled chokes of horror, as he watches someone even he has come to trust try to enjoy destroying a long line of years the victim had built up. He oh so yearned to hear his pleas in the wonderful tune of senseless screaming. To claw him open in the most terrible way, sinking his fingers inside and slowly pulling, gripping his heart only for a second to remind him that he was the one in contr-

The figure pauses and almost chokes on his breath. When did he start sounding so… so… what… w-what was he? What could he honestly say to end those thoughts? Nothing nice he had to admit. He could no longer deny to himself that he was different. The laugh he gave off after was humourless, dry and broken. So much like the beating organ inside his chest. He knew exactly why and when he had changed; though he couldn't truly find why he had felt the need to laugh.

Still though, it was troubling to think he changed that much. To think that the years of empty solitude might have changed his personality all together from one of hopeful optimism to another of broken pessimistic hatred. Hatred he held only for himself and no one else. Not even his conceiving, emotionless, son of a bitch father was at the raw end of his hate. Someone that even in the darkness of there relation to one another he had grown to respect, to admire, and had still deceived him, still left him. No, he could never be angry with him. He had protected his form many times and when he last looked at the figure, he had never seen such piercingly sad eyes, such love; he had never seen someone so ready to die for his son. Never met anyone so willing to abide his every wish, he knew his father would do everything in his power to aid him in anything that pushed him forward, every dream, all but one.

Derris Kharlan.

His father had wanted to leave. He had admitted at the time he had been furious with his father when he had so carelessly requested he send him there. The figure had shouted and cried and screamed. He had even gone so far to break down, throwing things, rocks and dirt, at the man. But in the end he had finally got close and held the figure even closer. That had only made it worse for him. The fact that his father had showed his love and still told him he needed to leave had killed him. He had said a blatant no. His father had left. Still though he wasn't hateful towards his father, angry yes, but never would he blame him for the choices he himself had made…

Slowly he had become animated, ears locked on the crumble he'd heard from behind him; someone climbing up the pieces of rubble to jump him perhaps? A sinister smile graced his lips, auburn hair swaying in front of his eyes and arching around his head. Swiftly he rose from the torn ground, eyes almost cat-like, deep, silently moving over the rocks, careful not to crunch the roots clawing from the earth. Wouldn't want to startle them.

Someone had finally come to play.

…

((((Well there we go. Got it down and will try to continue it. Though I might start rewriting "I'm not Anna?" again. XD Might be fun. Let's see what I can pull off.

**Please Review. 3))))**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well! Usually I procastinate for years! :D This time I got all excited cuz a review and actually did the story ^^ Sorry for the shortness. I'm working on such problems :) Enjoy!**

**IMPORTANT NOTE! ... I don't own Tales of Symphonia! Madness right**?

Red liquid squished under his feet as he removes himself from the tub, careful, graceful, and uncaring. He has never seen so much blood; it soaked the tub, sinking into the wood, splashing across the wooden floor leaving a trail from his newly cleaned, lean, form and to the sink. He didn't care much, his senses still buzzing, for the mess he made. He couldn't stop from feeling relieved, almost calmed.

Slowly he snatches a towel from the cupboard to the side of the mirror and wipes his face clean of the dried crimson, scrubbing mercilessly. After dropping the towel he rubs his hand down his moderately burning face unaware he had scrubbed that hard.

Chocolate meets chocolate and he blinks for a moment taking in his features. A strong jaw adorned with human like ears and lean cheekbones; like his father he had been told. His eyes darken considerably and his lips make a thin line brushing the leaning bangs out of his face and as much to the side as he was able. It had grown a lot through the years. Still spiky around his head, almost as a lions main, only now more dark auburn hair fell into the left side of his face. He lets out a breath flipping his hair away and slowly lets his eyes wonder down himself. His abdominal was toned, muscled and strong. Six muscles popped out showing all of his hard work with his lean form, all his training, and all of the killing he had done.

His hand snatched black material to the left off him, off the toilet, and slips it over his head. The black sleeveless shirt fit him snugly, showing off his toned muscles and allowing the world to see his thick tanned arms. Pulling black trousers on and adding his belt, he attaches his swords with ease allowing the twin blades to sit comfortingly at his sides.

He slides his fingers up the icy Vorpal sword and his other up the flaming sword, burning his fingers in the process. His most prized possessions. Two things that reminded him of the two fathers he now knows he does not deserve. Slowly he turns exciting the bathroom and entering the one room house. There is no bed, but a tiny kitchen to the left side set apart by the couch facing a fireplace directly across. A work desk is placed next to the front desk and papers are scattered around in his past futile attempts to focus on the task he had decided to do. His eyes left the table and fell into the last corner of the small house.

The right side of the door, a corpse, long lost to the world and already showing signs of decaying. His foots steps seemed to destroy the cold serenity that he felt in the house and he knelt by the body, eyes dull and cold, slowly moving his rough fingers across the forehead and down to the bodies chin. Before he had even pulled away the body jerked and for one moment it seemed as if he had pulled the soul back into the body regardless the lacerations, then within an instant the body crumbled to ash.

He simply stares before pushes himself up, moving slowly to the door grabbing a red coat, adored with white trimming and red cuffs on his wrists and neck. The door let out a whine landing roughly against the outside of the oak building and he squinted into the afternoon sun, almost bathing in the light. It was time to look up the blue haired half-elf, Time to rejoined society.

That was going to be a pain in the ass…

**Review Please! Each review kills more Squaids each day! Don't laugh... That's some serious shit :D**


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